The Strain: Bloodline
by x.Lady.Midnight.x
Summary: Cassandra Setrakian doesn't do many things well. She's not good with people, relationships, staying on the right side of the law. What she is good at, is killing vampires. So when a deadly virus appears in New York, supposedly killing a plane full of passengers. Cassandra and her grandfather Abraham know not all is as it appears...
1. Prologue

**Soooo, I'm doing a little character throw in. I hope it works. I love The Strain T.V series, it's amazeballs. I just wanted to play around with the characters a tiny bit, so naturally I chose Abraham. 'Cause he's awesome! I just thought... what if Abraham had family? Then I thought... too much. Everybody would be dying all over the place, and then he'd be far too distracted to kick butt. Soooooo, what if Abraham had _a_ member of family? Like a grandson? Only I don't like writing about guys with dramatic paths, girls are so much cooler. So enter grandaughter Setrakian. **

**Enjoy!**

**The Strain: Bloodline**

**~ Prologue ~**

_**Thirteen years ago...**_

_Skin painted in sweat, her heart racing, and finally sweet, doe-like eyes snapped open._

_The room was dark, but whatever had woken young Cassandra Setrakian, was quiet now, it's silence louder than the warning horn of an oncoming train. _

_Tentatively, she placed a curious toe outside her covers, crossing the cold wooden floor in a flurry of footsteps, as her pale hand reached bravely for the door handle. Cassandra poke her head out onto the landing._

_Nothing._

_Just darkness._

"_Mom? Daddy?" She called, her voice barely louder than a whisper, as she made it to their bedroom door._

_She peeked inside._

_Empty. The bed hadn't even been slept in._

"_Where are you?" Cassandra wondered, her little face crinkling prettily, as the shadows of her nightmare crept tauntingly down her spine. _

_A faint light caught her eye, and crouching down, she rested her forehead against the stair railings, discovering that the light belonged to nothing but a silent T.V screen. Perhaps they had fallen asleep downstairs?_

_Reaching the top step, Cassandra was able to switch the landing light on, happy to be bathed in it's artificial warmth, as she slowly began her the decent to the family room. Was that a splash of red she saw? Had her mom dropped another wine glass? Dad had warned her against the beige carpets, she was far too accident prone. _

"_Mom, dad, I had a bad dream." Cassandra mumbled tiredly, happy to find them curled up on the sofa together._

_They didn't answer._

_Cassandra glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, a gift from her grandfather, and raised her eyebrows. Half-three in the morning? No wonder her parents were out cold._

"_Mom?"_

_The girl stepped forward, but stopped, her feet sinking uncomfortably into wet carpet. She grimaced at the sensation. More wine? Cassandra glanced back at the staircase. Was that a crimson hand on her dad's newly papered walls? And the carpet... the red was looking less and less like spilt wine, and more like wild track marks. Track marks that lead directly to the sofa..._

_Was that her mom's necklace?_

_Cassandra bent down, lacing the delicate chain of her mother's 'Star of David' carefully through uncertain fingers._

_It to was flecked with red, she realised, and suddenly Cassandra knew she did not want to look 'round the edge of the couch. She did not wish to see her parent's faces any more. She could turn back, go upstairs and face only the horrors her dreams would provide her. Not this. Not this red room, and it's stench of iron._

_How had she not noticed that before?_

"_Calm yourself, _Mäuschen. _Can't you see they are only sleeping?"_

_Cassandra turned, her gaze meeting a set of piercing, dark eyes, and though she tried to scream, her words only abandoned her. _

_The monster in front of her resembled a man. He was dressed like a man, he sounded like a man, but that was where the similarities ended, and the horror began. For no man could mimic the being in front of her. His skin was whiter than her own, dead, he had no hair, no nose, and his lips were crudely stained scarlet. A red that matched her parent's walls and carpet._

"Strigoi._" She breathed finally, though she might have imagined it._

_Her realisation only seemed to please him, and the cruellest of smiles began to twist his lips , but Cassandra did not wait to see more. She ran, she ran as her grandfather had always taught her._

_To find silver, to find something to protect herself with_

_But what?_

_The necklace in her hand – that was silver – but nowhere near a worthy enough weapon, so she burst into the kitchen, throwing draws to the floor in her haste to find what she needed. In the chaos she somehow happened upon her mom's occasion cutlery, and from it hazardously grabbed the long handled carving knife, cutting herself in the process. _

_Luckily with the adrenalin in her veins, she barely felt it, but it did open other doors for concern._

"_You have hurt yourself, _ Mäuschen, _you should be more careful. We wouldn't want to waste you."_

_Cassandra extended the knife out shakily in front of her, pressing her little body tightly into the corner counter. Her lip trembled when she spoke._

"_I know what you are! Don't come any closer." She ordered loudly, angry, frightened tears streaming relentlessly down rounded cheeks._

_The _Strigoi_ grinned, clasping his hands together loudly. "Oh, 8230385, you have been passing your knowledge onto the younger generations. How very predictable of you." His hand swooped down, snatching the knife from her fingers in a heat beat, before carelessly tossing it aside. He sighed loudly. "And how pointless."_

"_N-n-no." Cassandra whimpered, pressing herself painfully into the work top, as his icy fingertips reached out and subtly grazed her pulse point. "Don't..."_

_He ignored her, of course, and his gaze wondered over her slowly._

"_You have your grandfather's eyes, _Mäuschen. _It is like looking into the past. Tell me, what has he said to you of my kind?"_

"_Just stories." Cassandra whispered, her throat dry as she struggled for her voice once again. She swallowed hard. "Stories that his _Bubbeh _told him."_

"_I see. And you _like_ these stories? Do they amuse you?"_

_Cassandra shook her head, her dark tendrils tumbling messily over her face. "They frighten me. Mom and dad disapprove."_

"_And yet you listen anyway." _

_Her face hardened, her little expression suddenly very intense, her eyes narrowing as they slowly met his._

"_Grandpa says they are meant to frighten me. That they are told as warnings to whoever hears them. So that... that when the time comes, I will know what to do."_

_The _Strigoi_ laughed, flashing his bloodied teeth widely. "Really? You are most amusing, _Mäuschen! _So very serious, just like your grandfather. And what is it that you need to do?"_

"_Kill you all."_

_Without thinking, and acting purely on instinct, Cassandra plunged a different knife into the _Strigoi's _chest. He fell back, surprised, and she wasted no time rushing for the yard door. She threw it open, running screaming into the cold November night. It was snowing again. She yelled louder, praying that the monster wouldn't follow her, her feet slipping on snow and ice, as she rushed blindly forward in a worsening frenzy._

_Suddenly cars were around her, blurring her vision with harsh lights, and shouting at her with their garbled horns. Did they not know her parents were dead? Did they not realise the danger they were all in?_

_Her eyes found his once more._

_Time stilled, and from across a snow blanketed patch of grass, she caught the gaze of the _Strigoi_._

_He was mocking her._

_Their connection lasted only for a moment, before, quite violently, her body collided with an oncoming car._

**R&R!**

**Sooooo, what are we thinking? There aren't many stories to do with The Strain T.V series, so be gentle with your thoughts. I don't know why there aren't more. It's amazing!**

**I'd like to carry it on, I think I will regardless, but would be nice to see if people are enjoying it.**

**Peace out! X**


	2. Prologue: Revisited

**~ The Strain: Bloodline ~**

**~ Prologue: Revisited ~**

_Light. Light. Light. Light. _

_Voices._

_Light._

_Voices._

_Light._

_Pain._

_The _Strigoi.

_Cassandra screamed. She screamed as loud as her lungs would allow her. She screamed until her voice cracked, and her chest protested against the discourteous treatment. She screamed until she could scream no more. _

_Arms. They were pinning her down, whispering words of what sounded like comfort. She felt something sharp scratch her arm. A tooth? A nail? Immediately darkness began to weight on her mind, and the last thing she saw was the dim glow of a heart monitor, before once again, everything went black._

[-]

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Cassandra stirred uncomfortably in the warmth of her cocoon. Outside elements tapping nails against her skull. What was making that stupid sound?_

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Her dad. Was he messing around with the security alarms again?_

_Beep._

_She groaned, close to breaking the surface of her sleep. "Dad, I'm sleeping." She grumbled groggily._

_Beep._

_Beep._

"_Dad!"_

_Cassandra opened her eyes, only to find a sanitised white room staring back at her. She looked down, her leg was in a cast, one of her arms held tightly in a blue wrist support. She frowned, and her head seared with pain._

_What had happened?_

_Glancing unsteadily to her left, she found a large window that looked out onto a hospital's intensive care unit. In the centre of that window stood a doctor draped in white, and three lean men in suits. Two of those men Cassandra did not recognise, the third however..._

"_Grandpa..."_

_She hoped Abraham Setrakian would hear her breath of recognition, a feat she knew to be impossible, and yet to her relief he turned, his face appearing perhaps older than she had ever remembered it being. _

_Cassandra's lips formed a pout of concern, but when she met the deep, sinking, sadness of his gaze, she began to remember, and the pain that followed was as though someone had punched a large gaping hole through her chest. _

_The beeping from the heart monitor quickened, and strangled whimpers erupted harshly from her throat._

_Her parents were dead._

Slaughtered.

_By the _Strigoi_._

"_Grandpa! Grandpa! Grandpa!" She cried, over and over._

_Even when Abraham tore pass the detectives, and held her beaten face in his calloused hands, she screamed for him. Though she knew not why. It was as though she had been possessed. Possessed by grief, and she could not help but haunt him with her pain._

"_Shh, shh, Cassie. It's okay, you're safe now." He offered, a weak attempt at condolence._

_But Cassandra merely shook her head, somehow ignoring the discomfort it brought her. "He killed them. He just... killed them. I didn't know, I thought they were sleeping. I – "_

"_I know, child, but listen. You've been in and out of consciousness for over a week. The doctors, they have been trying to get you to talk, but it was as though you couldn't hear them. Traumatised, they said. You've been very brave,Cassandra, I ask that you stay strong just a little while longer." Abraham breathed urgently, wiping the tell-tale tear tracks from her cheeks. "The authorities will try to talk with you again, but if you tell them the truth, they will not believe you. You must not tell them what you saw. Do you understand, Cassandra? They will take you away."_

_She sobbed. "But, Grandpa – I –"_

"_No. The world is not ready for the monsters we've faced. You must invent one that they can understand. Then, and only then, can we move on from this, and begin to put the world to rights."_

_Cassandra blinked at him, terrified, but slowly reasoning that he spoke only the truth. She glanced at the men waiting impatiently outside the door, detectives no doubt, and nodded._

"_Okay."_

_Abraham pressed a light kiss against Cassandra's forehead, stroking her hair as he reached over and gently lifting the silver 'Star of David' from her hospital bedside table. _

_Gazing at it, he smiled sadly. _

"_Your father begged me to let him give this to your mother. It was your grandmother's once, and very precious to me, but I relented, as he knew I would. Besides... Sacher wouldn't have wanted it left to catch dust in a draw." _

_Abraham fell silent for a moment, his eyes misting over to another time, a happier era of warm chocolate locks and dimpled smiles. He sighed heavily. _

"_It suited your mother when she wore it, and now it is yours, _einnikel_."_

_Carefully, he clasped the thin chain around the back of her neck, admiring the pendant as he slowly pulled back, and allowed the cool metal to slip elegantly from his grasp._

_Cassandra dropped her gaze sadly. "So what happens now?"_

"_You tell me what you know of the _Strigoi_ that attacked you, and then, once we're done here, and these people are done with their own questions, we will go home."_

"_To your Pawn shop?"_

"_Yes."_

_She nodded contently. "Good. I don't want to go back to the house. Not ever."_

_Abraham inclined his head, emphasising. He glanced back subtly over his shoulder. A team of doctors stood waiting to attention outside the door, all itching to reassess his granddaughter's care needs. The police would not wait much longer, either. They would need to be quick._

"_So, the _Strigoi_, Cassie... is there anything you can tell me about him? Anything that stood out to you?" He said, laying a gentle hand on top of her own. _

_Abraham hoped that he did not sound too forceful, he did not wish to frighten her further, but he needed to know what she knew, now, whilst the memory was still fresh._

_Cassandra frowned a little as she thought back, the memories too frightening for her own liking. She was not really ready to relive it all yet. _

"_He talked funny. Like he had an accent. He seemed to know who you were, which was weird. He spoke like you were old friends."_

_Abraham stiffened._

"_Really...did he say anything else to you?"_

"_Not really. He kept calling me, er, _Mäu..sc...hen? _I didn't really understand."_

"_It is German. It means 'little mouse'."_

_Cassandra nodded. "Is he going to come after us again?"_

"_Not if he values his life." Abraham growled, hatred suddenly hardening his gaze. "I have lost enough already, and now he has made my misery yours. His crimes will not go unpunished, Cassie. This I promise you."_

_The elderly man stood carefully from the bed, then, his bones protesting stiffly, but never the less reliable. Cassandra Setrakian could not help but notice he looked beaten suddenly, as if all the world's worries were now pressed onto his narrow shoulders. He had lost his son, but she could tell from his eyes that this was only the first dose of misery they were to receive. It was not over, and they would need to stick together if they were to get through it._

_So she smiled, as kindly and as genuinely as she could, and reached for his hand once more._

"_We will get through this, Grandpa." She murmured gently, sounding decades older than her actual years. "We'll help each other. We can be strong together."_

_Abraham gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. "I hope you're right."_

_**R&R!**_

_**Soooooo, not much interest yet, but that's cool. We've not really started I suppose. But I would still like your critic. Just a little box message away you know ;) A little click, click :)**_

_**Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed. Take care xxx**_


	3. It Begins

***Okay, so thirteen years after the prologue, brings us to the beginning of our story. I'm afraid this chapter isn't as long as would have liked, but it does set up for a more exciting chapter after. I have a fun idea! (evil grin).**

**Thank you my two reviewers, I wish you had signed in so I could reply. Your support meant a lot, and I won't let you down. Updates will be at least once a week, twice for shorter chapters.**

**Enjoy! And please review again :)**

* * *

><p><p>

**The Strain: Blood Line**

_Hunger, a poet once said, is the most important thing we know, the first lesson we learn. But hunger can be easily quieted down, easily satiated. There is another force, a different type of hunger, an unquenchable thirst that cannot be extinguished. Its very existence is what defines us, make us human. That force is love. __**~ Abraham Setrakian **_

**February 9th 2014:**

In the distance a tired telephone sounded, and from her slumber Cassandra stirred, groggy and unwilling. She stretched and threw her arm across her face, hoping the inane noise would cease. It carried on, much to her disdain, and she roughly threw the covers off her legs.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming! Stupid phone. Who the hell's calling at this hour?" Cassandra grumbled, drunkenly stumbling out of her dark cave, and marching to the kitchen.

The caller was persistent if nothing else, she thought, reaching the phone and sighing, as she snatched it aggressively off of it's hook.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Cassandra growled, leaning awkwardly against the wall. "Whatever it is you're selling, we ain't buying, so I'll save you a lot of time, and – "

"_Cassie?"_

She paused.

"Gramps?" It took her a moment to recover. "What are you doing on the phone? It's two in the morning, you're supposed to be resting, your heart – "

"_Look, you can nag me later. I need to know, have you seen the news?"_

"What? No, I've been asleep like any normal person. Why?"

"_Turn the T.V on."_

Cassandra frowned, stretching the cord of the telephone in order to reach the remote. She hit a button, and the screen flashed on immediately, throwing a ghostly glow across the room. To say she was surprised by what she saw, would be an understatement.

"Gramps, why am I watching you being escorted out of JFK airport by New York's not so finest?" She asked flatly, her mouth gaping as she watched police officers hurdle her 88 year old grandfather roughly into a nearby vehicle.

Abraham coughed. _"Don't focus on that. Listen to the reporter."_

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Fine."

A cold looking woman flashed up on the screen not a moment later, no doubt a re-run edit of what was clearly a very big story, and despite her previous doubts, Cassandra found herself listening more and more intently with each passing word.

"_At 10 pm tonight, a flight landing in JFK airport, was found containing no less that 210 passengers, all of which showed no signs of life, with no telling reason. Though rumours have flew that four individuals may have survived these strange events, the government and the CDC are reluctant to share with us any information at this point. Time will only tell."_

"Gramps?" Cassandra whispered, her body numb as she slowly withdrew back into the kitchen. "Gramps you still there?"

"_Yes."_

"You... you think it's _Strigoi_, don't you?"

"_It is _Him_, Cassie. And you know, where he goes, Eichorst can not be far behind. Something big is happening. I can feel it."_

Cassandra rested her forehead against the wall, counting her breaths slow and steady, like her therapist had taught her to do when she was a child – it wasn't helping.

"Why didn't you wake me before you went waltzing off over there?" She growled hotly, though she knew she wasn't really angry at her grandfather. "Now I'm stuck here on my own, and you're God knows where."

"_The precinct on the upper 5th. You're my one phone call." _Abraham replied gruffly, but Cassie didn't miss the lick of amusement in his voice, and if he had been with her, she would have whacked him one. Pensioner or not.

"This isn't funny, Grandpa. I mean, what the hell did you say for them to arrest you? Actually, don't tell me. I know subtly isn't your forte. Point is, what do we do now?"

"_I need you to find me someone that can get hold of that passenger manifest."_

Thinking, Cassandra bit her lip. "Yeah, I can do that. But they're gonna want paying, Gramps."

"_I'm sure a mutual agreement can be made."_

"It normally can." Cassie mumbled, thinking back to her previous dealings with these circles.

Most of them were kids, harmless hackers. They had a way of finding exactly what you wanted, and more, if they really liked you. Cassandra just hoped her old contacts were still active.

"_G-good." _Abraham coughed down the line, before quickly composing himself. _"Make the call now, Cassie, and then I want you to go and get some sleep. You're going to need your strength if we're going to fight this thing. In the morning, you can sort us some artillery."_

"Don't you want me to come visit you? When are you coming home?"

"_In a day or so. They need to find me a court before I can go to trial. Apparently they frowned upon my cane as it is an offensive weapon."_

Cassandra paused. "They found the sword didn't they?"

"_They did."_

"Excellent."

"_It will be fine, Cassie, I'll sort it. Just get some rest and don't let your guard down."_

Cassandra laughed despite herself. "You realise those two statements are completely contradictory?"

"_I'm not sure if you've noticed, but everything about our lives is contradictory." _Abraham chuckled, before suddenly turning very serious, and sobering Cassie's lightened mood. _"But we can not waste time thinking on that. The Strigoi do not sleep, and every second we spend in idleness, the wheels of their plan move closer to their destination."_

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Nice. You're leaving me on a light note."

"_Be safe, _Bubbala._"_

"You to, Gramps." She simpered.

The line went dead.

**Read and Review, Chickens!**


	4. The Monsters of Our Minds

**The Strain: Bloodline**

The night had not brought Cassandra the resting sleep Abraham Setrakian had wished her. Instead her mind had been ravished by nightmares, shadow filled dreams that she would have preferred not to dwell on. When she finally awoke, dawn was just peering through the curtains, and sleepily, she forced herself to get dressed.

Once down in her grandfather's shop, Cassandra set about her tasks, hoping she could distract herself from darker thoughts, if she refused to acknowledge them. So she listened to the radio, paying special interest to any updates about flight 753, and it's 210 passengers. Then, as her grandfather requested, she sent out messages to all her old hacker contacts, anyone that might be able to get their hands on 753's flight manifest, though God only knew why he wanted it.

Later, Cassandra opened up the shop, she checked the stock, paying particular interest to any supplies which were made of pure silver. It never hurt to be too prepared, after all.

Later, when the sun had grown lazy and fallen sleepily behind the buildings, she was treated to a pleasant, but unexpected surprise. She was just counting out the takings for the day, knowing it was unlikely that more custom would come by, when a familiar voice called up to the kiosk.

"Good evening, miss. I don't suppose you've seen a girl in here, have you? Short, long dark curls, a weakness for homicide detectives?"

Cassandra looked up, unable to prevent the smile that stretched from ear to ear. In fact, so happy was she, she barely paid any attention to the suited gentleman that followed shortly after.

Eagerly watching the boyish officer that sauntered up the centre aisle, she tilted her head playfully to one side, pointedly narrowing her eyes.

"I don't know, detective, perhaps there was one in here earlier, but I would have thought she got tired of waiting by now. Especially as you were meant to be here _six _hours ago."

He leant casually against the counter, swiping a nervous hand through chocolate tresses. "Did I mention she was beautiful?"

Giggling, Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Adam."

"Cassie."

"We were supposed to have lunch."

He winced, chagrined. "I know, and a thousand curses on my house for being late, but I have brought you something, as way of an apology."

From behind his back, Adam produced a small, golden, sweet smelling ring. One of New York's finest cheese bagels, and Cassandra's mouth couldn't help but water.

"Well, Detective Valentine, you've truly outdone yourself." She laughed teasingly, biting eagerly into the soft sweet dough. She closed her eyes.

_Heaven. _

"Does that look mean I'm forgiven?" Adam asked, slowly coming around to the inside of the kiosk.

Cassie shrugged. "Depends. What exactly made you forget about our lunch date?"

Adam tapped lightly on the radio. "You heard about flight 753?"

She hesitated. "... Yeah, but what's that to do with you guys? I thought the CDC were on it?"

"Well, there was a murder at the airport early hours of this morning, homicide got called in. My bosses are worried that whoever did the killing, had something to do with all those passengers up and dying."

Cassie paused, putting down her bagel. "What do _you_ think?"

"I think it's worth checking out. It's not often you get two different kinds of crazy so close together, even in New York. Speaking of which..." Adam lifted her from her seat, taking her place himself, before carefully pulling her back down into his lap. He smiled wryly. "What's this I hear about your Pops being held in a cell last night? Something about waving a sword at some CDC guy?"

Cassie grimaced. "You heard about that, huh?"

"Yeah, along with half the precincts. He's gone and made himself the new town crazy."

"_Zeyde,_ isn't _crazy_." She argued defensively. "He's just a little... _eccentric_, is all."

"Cassie. He was telling them to _destroy _the bodies they found on 753. Including the four that _survived_. Haven't you spoken to him?"

"I have." She said, her head reeling from this new information. "He just didn't tell me that last colourful detail."

What had her grandfather been _thinking? _Cassandra knew that whatever was happening, was big for Abraham to react like he did, but still, some subtly wouldn't have gone amiss. He couldn't exactly defend the world from inside a jail cell, she thought, frowning fiercely at her knees.

She sighed sadly. "They won't keep him in there long, will they?"

Adam briefly touched his fingertips to her cheek, stroking his knuckles soothingly over the rounded arch of her cheekbone, before Cassie finally lifted her lashes. He smiled. "I'll talk to the judge that's handling his sentence. It's likely he'll just get a warning, and told to take his meds – as long as he doesn't mention killing anyone, of course."

Cassandra caught his hand as it left her, placing a small chaste kiss against the inside of his wrist. "Thank you."

Adam sighed, his gaze lingering on her a moment more, before he reluctantly pulled them both to their feet.

"What was your Pops _doing_ there, anyway? He doesn't strike me as much of a plane enthusiast."

Cassie giggled at the thought. "How would you know, you've only met him once."

"Yeah, because _you_ won't introduce us properly. You told him I was the pizza guy."

"You _were_ holding pizza."

"Yeah, _smart ass,_ but – "

Adam's phone rang. He sighed once, hoping it would ring off, but eventually he was forced to answer, and sending Cassie an apologetic look, he grudgingly flipped it open.

"Valentine... Yeah? But I thought... I'm on my way." He swiftly pocketed the phone. "Duty calls."

"Doesn't it always?"

"I'll make it up to you." Adam lightly kissed her forehead. "Don't worry about your old man. I'll make sure he's out by tomorrow."

Cassie nodded, watching worriedly as he headed for the shop door. "Be safe, Adam."

But he was already gone, and she found herself twisting her 'Star of David' anxiously between thin fingers. How was he supposed to be safe, when he didn't even know what it was he was fighting? She could tell him, but where would that leave them? Even if by some stroke of luck he did believe her, he was still going to get hurt. People close to her always got hurt...

_Mom, Dad, I had a bad dream..._

"He seemed like a nice boy."

Cassie snapped out of her haze. A customer, the suit guy, was stood on the other side of the kiosk.

"Excuse me?"

The man rested his hands on the desk.

"Strange that you have yet to introduce him to your Grandfather. Do you worry he might disapprove?"

"What?" Cassie stared, dumbstruck. Who the hell was this guy!? He could have only been in his fifties. He appeared quite strong, though his skin was waxy and his hair was grey. His accent however...

"Do I know you?" She demanded suddenly, her heart hammering harshly in her chest, despite her hardened front.

The man said nothing, he simply smiled, and she began to get the worst sense of deja vu.

Like ice crawling up her spine.

"Listen, I don't know who you are." She began in her panic. "But we are about to close. Unless you are going to buy something, then I'm afraid..."

"You are a disappointment, __Mäuschen.___" He tittered softly.___ "___I would have hoped that the last time we met, I had made more of a lasting impression. I remember ___you___, most fondly."_

_Cassandra blinked, quite unable to process what she was hearing. It couldn't be. Not ___him___. It simply couldn't. He looked ___human___, how was that even possible? He was ___Strigoi, ___time could not have changed him that much._

_"Eichhorst?" She breathed, still uncertain, her fingertips reaching subtly beneath the desk. _

_His smile widened at the recognition, and Cassie was left in no doubt. That twisted grin had haunted her dreams for the past thirteen years. _

_She took a breath. It was time to enter game mode. "What do you want, ___Strigoi___?"_

_"I simply wished to speak with you___. ___It has been a long time."_

_Her hand gripped the gun under the counter. She inhaled._

_"So talk."_

_"Ah, still so serious!" Eichhorst tutted, teasingly shaking his head. "Still so much like your grandfather. Never in the mood for some simple conversation. I should – "_

_Cassandra whipped out the gun, and fired. She was a good shot. It was right where his head should have been. _

_Only it was not there, and suddenly his voice was behind her._

_"You never learn, ___Mäuschen. ___If you'd only listen, you'd realise I'm trying to offer you a great opportunity."_

_"___Screw___ your opportunity!" She hissed, swiftly taking aim once more._

_This time Eichhorst caught her wrist, the bullet narrowly missing his throat, and loudly shattering the money jars lined up on the shelf behind. Cassie kicked at his stomach, winding him only momentarily, before he picked her up and effortlessly slammed her body down hard on the cold wood of the counter. _

_She cried out. _

_"The world is about to change, Cassandra." Eichhorst began, his grip unwavering despite her persistent struggles. "Whether you join willingly or not, it will not change what is to be."_

_"Going to be hard to change the world without a ___head___!" She threatened, wrapping her fingertips around her necklace. "You'll starve like all the other cockroaches!" _

_She pressed her 'Star of David' against his hand, and Eichhorst fell back in a brief moment of pain. It was that was needed, however, for Cassie to grab her gun, and quickly squeeze herself through the small kiosk window. She dropped unceremoniously to the floor with a loud thud, before stumbling awkwardly to her feet. To her frustration, Eicchorst was already in front of her, and gun in hand she squared her stance._

_He gazed down at her as if she were merely a child having a tantrum. _

_"Your grandfather has taught you well." He noted softly, idly straightening his cuff. "Ah 8230385... he was as surprised to see me, as you are. Though, I noticed his heart was weaker than when we last met."_

_Cassie glared. "I swear, if you've hurt him, I'll – "_

_"You will do nothing." Eicchorst scoffed knowingly. "The Master's plans are already in motion, and there is a special place just for you, ___Mäuschen. ___You are going to be apart of the glorious new order."_

_"You'll have to kill me first."_

_Eicchorst smiled. "That is the idea, however, your transformation is something I would like your grandfather to see, and alas, he is detained for the time being. So..." He softly clasped his hands together. "Shall we say farewell for the time being?"_

_Giving the shop a sweeping glance, he turned. He strode right out of the shop, and yet Cassie did nothing to pull the trigger of her gun. She couldn't. _

_Instead, she shook._

_She sobbed._

_And then she sank to the floor._

_**R&R!**_

_**Hope you liked. I've been away awhile, I know. But please let me know your thoughts. I'm off to reply to reviews now! :) xx**_


	5. The Wheels of Our Minds

**The Strain: Bloodline**

Sat in the back of a grubby New York Taxi, Cassandra Setrakian felt the safest she had in close to twenty-four hours. Her eye-lids getting heavier with each passing second, as her cold yellow chariot, raced across town to her grandfather's hearing, at one of the city's many small time courts.

Monday morning, and Cassandra did not open the shop for her grandfather. Having spent the entire night awake – one hand on her silver packed gun, the other, on a similarly edged sword – she could not quite find the energy to play at retail.

Eichhorsts unexpected visit had not only set her on edge, but had also reawakened nightmares she had long put to rest. With the world on the brink of hell, now was the time to be strong, and yet Cassandra could feel her mind tearing at the seams.

Was she really so weak?

Her grandfather had helped her through the early days, back when her parent's brutal murders were still fresh. He had taught her how to cope, how to stop her fear from ruling her, but most importantly, how to fight the monsters that had darkened both of their realities.

She had forgotten everything he'd taught her, when Eichhorst revealed himself, and by the time she had reacted, it was too late.

He was but one _Strigoi. _How was she supposed to fight the flocks that were to come, or dare she think it, the Master? Cassandra was under no illusion, this was her grandfather's fight, but whether she cared to admit it, or not, he _was_ old, and his heart struggled.

There was no way in hell he was going to be able to handle this nightmare on his own.

"48."

The taxi driver leaned around, and Cassie blinked. "Huh?"

"The ride?" He gestured roughly to the fact the car had stopped, and then hesitated as she properly caught his eye for the first time. "Hey, its 48, _doll-face, _but listen, if you don't got the fare, I'm sure we can make alternative arrangements. Hows five minutes of your time sound?" The taxi guy leered.

Cassie grabbed a fifty from her backpack. "You're disgusting." She said, shoving it into the cabby's dirty hand. "Use it to buy some deodorant, _asshole._"

She slammed the door behind her without a second glance, storming up to the criminal court house, only to find Abraham Setrakian already stood outside, talking to some woman official.

Cassie immediately slowed her step, and hesitated beside a hedgerow.

"Until you are willing to do what needs to be done, you are of no use to me." Cassie heard her grandfather say angrily, turning abruptly from the woman, and making his way toward the road.

Cassie stepped out from her hiding place.

"Gramps?"

He stopped, looking back and forth between her and the confused lady behind him. He coughed awkwardly.

"Cassandra, you are supposed to be back at the shop, you are supposed to be making preparations." He reminded her irately, shifting his weight onto his cane.

Cassie nodded. "I know, _Zayde, _andI have, but something's happened. I didn't want to stay there on my own."

"I see." Frowning, Setrakian gave her the slow once over. "You look exhausted. You haven't slept."

Cassandra shook her head.

"Excuse me?" The woman her grandfather had been talking to suddenly ran forward, her pretty Latino features crumpled in confusion, as she touched Abraham's elbow. "You said back in court that you didn't have any family." She risked a glance at Cassie. "Is this your granddaughter?"

"Who I am, lady, is no concern of yours." Cassandra replied, a littler ruder than intended. Her gaze softened as she looped her arm through her grandfather's. "C'mon, pops."

They walked, leaving the woman looking stunned behind them, and Cassie rested her head lightly against Abraham's shoulder.

"Dr. Martinez is CDC." He informed her. "She's not ready to be of any assistance to us."

"She'll change her mind, when she's got some dead guy trying to latch onto her throat." Cassandra rallied back, trying and failing to signal for a cab. "Eichhorst paid me a visit last night."

Setrakian froze, and Cassie raised her head.

"What did he want?"

"Just to frighten me, I think. We fought a little, but it would have been easy enough for him to kill me." Finally, a taxi slowed. "You saw him to."

"Yes."

The quickly ducked into the cab.

"East, one-hundred and eighteen." Cassie told the driver. She turned back to her grandfather. "He looked human. How can that be?"

Abraham shrugged. "Costume make-up, I would guess." He looked at her strangely. "What did he say to you?"

"He offered me a place in his Master's new regime." She scoffed darkly, running a swift frightened hand over her pale face. "He wants to hurt us so badly. Why is it so personal to him?"

"Because he is a monster that feeds off of people's pain. That is the life he lived as a human, and he lives it now." He gripped her hand suddenly. "All we can do is push forward. Fight or die, _Bubbala_. You understand?"

She nodded.

"Good girl." He ran a claw-like hand, gently threw her curls. "Any luck with getting your hands on the flight manifest?"

Cassandra inclined her head, remembering the phone call that had come through just before she left.

"This kid said she could get her hands on it for me, and I promised to give her the video games console she wanted in return. She should come by some time this afternoon."

"Good. Then we can get to work."

"_Brilliant_."

Cassie shivered, thinking of the cold, soulless faces that they was about to hunt down. Somehow, she had a feeling it wasn't going to be as easy as they thought.

**R&R!**

**I know. Filler chapter. But we must endure them from time to time. Thank you so much for my reviews! I'm off to reply! Let me know what you think, maybe where you think the story could be heading?**

**Bye Chickens xxx**


	6. Challenges

**The Strain: Bloodline**

Show them the silver. Aim to sever the head, or spear the torso. Don't panic.

This was the mantra Cassandra had been telling herself the entire journey to flight passenger, Emma Arnot's, home. It wasn't working, and as her and her grandfather made their way up to the house of 753's first passenger, she couldn't help but feel that it was looming over her, casting an eerie sort of judgement.

The night air cut through, and she shivered.

"_Zayde. _I don't know if I can do this." Cassie whispered, watching on desperately, as Abraham Setrakian manipulated the side door of the Arnot's garage. "I mean, what if there's more than two? What do we do then?"

"There will be one and a half." Setrakian replied knowingly. "Emma is only a child. Her father will not be that old, a few days into his transformation at most. Easy enough for us to over power." The door finally opened, and he met her gaze. "Have faith, _bubala. _You have trained hard all these years. I know you can do this."

With that he slipped into the Arnot's house, sword in hand as he pointed out two gas cans pushed against the garage wall. "We are going to need those after."

Cassie nodded, but stayed silent, tiptoeing behind him as they ventured further inside.

"I'm gonna' open the front door." She announced softly, gently lifting the heavy oak off of it's latch. "We might need a quick escape."

Cassie was about to question the silence that followed, when in the distance she noticed headlights. Headlights, that to her horror, were slowing down. "Uh-oh, we got company, gramps." She turned her head, gun in hand, and daggers ready around her waist.

The hall was empty.

Setrakian was gone.

Cassie cursed. "_Dammit_, _gramps_!"

The sound of car doors slamming invaded her ears, and she instinctively ducked into a nearby cupboard. All she needed was to have to explain her breaking and entering to some friend or family member. Somehow she figured that 'I'm here to chop off Emma's head', wasn't going to go down too well.

"Hello?!" A man called suddenly. "It's Dr. Ephram Goodweather, from the CDC!"

CDC? Cassie subtly peeked from her hiding spot. Some new guy, and the woman that had been talking to her grandfather at the courts. What the hell were they doing here?

"Mr. Arnot!?" Goodweather called again, louder this time.

Cassie fought the urge to jump out and slap him. Was he trying to get himself _killed_? He was like a fricken' ice-cream truck, announcing himself like he was.

Cassandra cocked her gun, and watched, as creeping forward, Goodweather opened a door that looked as if it led to a cellar, and with the woman behind him, they both began their descent, no weapon to be seen.

Cassie shook her head. "Newbs."

Knowing that they weren't going to like anything they found down there, Cassandra boldly tip-toed forward, the silence of the house suddenly shattering, as fearful screams erupted from beneath.

She bolted into a run.

Down in the cellar, all hell had broken loose. The CDC woman was yelling hysterically, Goodweather looked like he could freak out at any moment, and then there was her grandfather, standing war-like over the white-blooded remains of the small Emma Arnot. The remanent of the girl's father crouched before him, predatory and ready to strike. When the stinger burst forward, Setrakian was ready, his silver sliced it with ease, and Cassandra jumped to hand, sinking the blade of her dagger, up into the _Strigoi's_ head.

The body fell to the floor with am audible thump.

"Nice of you to show." Setrakian teased lightly, flicking the blood dismissively from his sword.

"I turned around and you were gone!" Cassie grumbled, following suit and sheathing her blade. "Mind the bodies." She warned the CDC pair. "You gotta be careful of the worm."

In response the woman's eyes darted around, rolling manically in her head. She stumbled back. "I can't stay here anymore." She heaved, throwing a purposeful arm over her face, and running back up the staircase.

Goodweather looked torn. "Nora!" He called after her, but he waited for Setrakian.

"There are two gas cans upstairs." Her grandfather interrupted before he could speak. "We need to burn the bodies."

Cassie her could hear the woman – Nora – crying upstairs by this point. She wasn't surprised when Goodweather turned blankly from them both, and ran up after her.

She stared at Setrakian. "And you want _their_ help?" She said flatly. "They're more chicken shit, than I am."

"They will learn, as you did." He reminded her, gesturing her to follow him upstairs. "They just need time."

"We don't _have_ time." Cassie reminded him, following Nora's snivels into the kitchen.

Her grandfather said nothing.

They found the CDC pair huddled together at the counter, arguing franticly over what they both had just witnessed. Goodweather seemed to be getting his head around things, Nora however...

"We said we were going to _help_ people, Eph! Find a cure! Not _kill_ them!" She sobbed, half collapsing into Goodweather's arms, half shoving him away.

He righted her.

"That was when we thought it was just a normal virus." He said evenly. "This _disease_, whatever it is, is spreading too quickly. Nora, destroying the bodies is the only way to contain it. The people of New York, our duty is to protect _them_ now. You understand?"

She shook her head. "Not by killing innocent people."

"Nora, _please_.

But it was Cassie who had heard enough.

"Oh don't be so naïve!" She growled, storming angrily up to the counter. "The blood on Mr. Arnot, where do you think that came from? The _real_ innocent people he was out there killing! That will already be infected by now, and they will go out, and they will bite another, and another will be made, until there's nothing left in this God forsaken city but food and monsters! Is that what you want, Nora? Nothing surrounding you but death?"

"Cassie." She felt her grandfather's hand on her shoulder, and she stilled slightly. "This life, _bubala, _it is not for everyone." He turned back to Nora. "If you need to leave now, we will not blame you, but your help, would be undeniably helpful at this crucial point."

Nora looked sadly between them all, carefully unhooking herself from Goodweather's hold.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "But I can't."

She stormed from the house without another word, leaving Cassie fuming silently in a corner, and Goodweather looking like a lovelorn puppy.

Cassie rolled her eyes...of all the selfish... where the hell did she think she was going to go? The entire city was currently acting as the mouth of hell. To _where_ was she going to be able to run?

"Some brains can not adjust." Setrakian announced softly, smiling sadly at the doctor. "I can see you love her for that, but you have to let her go." He sighed heavily, giving Cassandra's dark, untamed locks, a passing touch. "Now go get the gasoline."

**R&R!**

**Okay people, we've moved along quite a bit, more Cassie focused story in the next chapter. Promise. What do you think of the first meet up?**

**Thank you for my reviews! off to reply :)**

**x x x x**


	7. Trust Me, I'm A Vampire Slayer

**The Strain: Bloodline**

Still at the Arnot household, Cassandra drifted off into thought, as her grandfather; true to his past as a professor, calmly explained to Ephraim Goodweather exactly what was happening to world, and how far in the crap they were all soon going to be, if they didn't act fast.

Basically, the earth was about to become an all you can eat vampire buffet, unless they seriously started to sort their shit out.

She could see Goodweather was struggling with the 'V' word. _Strigoi, _didn't go down much better either. Yet Abraham persevered, and finally the good doctor agreed to fight their cause, as long as he was able to tape whole sordid affair on candid camera. Evidence, apparently. The city needed to go into lock down, and his bosses weren't about to do that without a jolly good reason.

Cassie didn't argue. In fact, she was about to offer some helpful input, when she felt the soft vibration of her cell against her hip.

She slid it into her hand.

Adam.

"Are you okay?" She breathed down the phone, ducking out onto the Arnot's front lawn. "I've left you like a _thousand_ voicemails. Where have you been?"

"_Signal...b-..d...went...sho...p... weren't the-re."_ He trailed off.

"Adam I can barely hear you." She moaned pointlessly, pulling her phone to check the bars.

The network was basically dead.

Sighing loudly, she pressed it to her face again. "Adam, listen, I don't _know_ if you can understand me, but I _really_ hope you can. I need you meet me at the coffee shop, okay? In an hour. Reggie's Coffee Shop. I just – "

The phone went dead.

She cursed. "_Damn it!_"

"Something the matter?"

Cassandra turned, her face a mixture of frustration, and down-right worry. "I need to go somewhere. I'm sorry, I know you need me here." She began awkwardly transferring her phone conversation into text form. "And I wouldn't ask if I was leaving you alone, but Goodweather will be with you, and I – "

"Is this about the cop?"

She punched the send button. "Yeah, I... wait." She looked up as if seeing Abraham for the first time. "You know about Adam?"

Setrakian smiled strangely. "What? You really think, I thought he was the pizza guy? I've hunted the Master for decades, Cassie. Figuring out my granddaughter's boyfriend, isn't exactly difficult."

She simpered. "Guess I never thought of it like that."

Abraham nodded slowly to himself. "You want to go find him?"

"Signals really bad, gramps. I couldn't warn him. I – " Cassandra paused, thinking things through, before cleverly deciding to change tactics. Sympathy wasn't about to win her grandfather's favour. "Adam's a _cop_, gramps. We could really use him."

Setrakian narrowed his eyes, as Goodweather appeared in the doorway. She was winning.

"You trust this boy?"

Cassie thought about it. Adam, the cop who rushed to her aid, and drove her home, just because she clumsily tripped on a drain, and hurt her ankle. Adam, the boy who sneaked his phone into her bag, just so he could call it later and ask her out. Who took her for coffee, who laughed with her, who climbed in and out of her bedroom window, like some rebellious teenager, just so they wouldn't be seen. The boy who brought her bagels to apologise for being late...

How could she _not_ trust him?

"He'd do anything for me."

Setrakian waved his hand. "Then we're wasting time just standing here. Go. You have a copy of the manifest, I will meet you at the third passenger's home in _three _hours_._ Don't be late. I want to be back before the eclipse."

"I won't." She promised, sending a torn look toward the gray Sedan parked in the driveway, and the stretch of empty street. "Do you think Mr Arnot will mind if I borrow his car?"

"He tried to rip our throats out. I'd take it as compensation." Her grandfather grumbled lightly.

Cassie grinned, hastily rushing pass Goodweather, to where she'd seen the Arnot's car and house keys the night before. She hesitated beside the doctor.

"Please. Watch his back. He can get carried away sometimes." She whispered, hoping her grandfather wouldn't hear.

He offered her a nod as a reply, and with that she bolted for the car, slid into the drivers seat, and reversed loudly out of the cobbled driveway.

Subtly never was her forte.

[-]

_Ding._

_Ding._

_Ding._

Cassandra couldn't count the amount of times she'd looked up from her table at the coffee house, hoping to see Adam squared safely in the doorway. Five? Eleven? What did it matter? He was late. He should have been there half an hour ago, and yet alone she still sat. Americano going cold under her touch. She reached for her phone again. Nothing.

"I wouldn't bother, love."

Cassie looked up. The waitress had been speaking to her.

"Bother with what?" She replied, confused.

"Your phone. All cell and internet signal has gone to hell. They reckon some hacker groups behind it." She said, balancing her trays on thick arms. "Honestly, I don't know what you kids are thinking these days. My day, you couldn't say boo to a goose without getting a smack around the ear."

"Someone's _crashed_ the internet?" Cassie scoffed disbelievingly. "Why the hell would anyone want to do that?"

The waitress shrugged. "Beats me. Why do people do anything nowadays? Because they can. You ask me, its this eclipse got people acting all crazy."

"Oh no." Cassandra tittered lightly. "People have always been crazy. The eclipse just gives them more reason to show it."

"Cassie?"

Relief flooded through her. The waitress was forgotten.

"Adam!"

She ran to him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist, as she buried her face into his chest. She sighed, breathing in his scent, and then she punched him hard in the shoulder.

"_Ow!_"

"Where the hell have you been? I've been waiting here forever. Why can you never be on time!?"

She went to punch him again, but he blocked her attack.

"Please stop hitting me." He asked pointedly, allowing her, her arm back. "And you ask me where the hell _I've_ been, where the hell have _you_ been? I heard your pops got let out, so I went to the shop – you weren't there. I climbed up to your bedroom window – you weren't there either. You've been gone all night, Cassie. You look exhausted, when was the last time you slept?"

"I – "

She thought about it. She hadn't slept at all last night, and the nights before had been fractured with nightmares, and Eichhorst – arguably one in the same thing – she hadn't realised how long it had been. She must have been running on nothing but adrenaline.

"Why didn't you call me?" She said instead, avoiding his questions. "I left you voicemails."

"I was working a case. By the time I heard them, that's when signal started getting dicey."

She nodded, waving for an end to the excuses. They were both safe. Nothing else mattered now. Gently, she pulled him into the booth where she'd been sitting.

Adam looked at her intently. "Are you going to tell me where you were?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." She laughed nervously, running fingers through matted curls. She caught his eye. "You not in the joking mood?"

"Not when my girlfriend disappears for nearly twenty-four hours, no."

She nodded. "Sorry."

"So where were you?"

She gazed down at her hands. She had hoped to ease him in slowly, but it didn't look like time was on their side, so into the deep end, it was. "I was hunting vampires, Adam."

A moment of silence.

"Cassie." He said, flatly.

"I'm not joking this time." She looked up, stared him straight in the face. "I was hunting vampires, Adam." She repeated, this time removing any lightness from her tone. "And so was _Zayde_. It's what we do."

Cassandra watched him intently. He bit his lip, and his forehead creased lightly as he caught one of her chocolate tendrils around his finger. She could tell already that he didn't believe her, and worse, he was worried.

"Look." He began carefully, resting his hand across her back. "I know after what happened to your parents you had some problems. Hell, anybody would, Cass."

She squared her jaw. "This isn't that."

"If you're having some kind of relapse, I can help. I'm not going anywhere. We're in this together."

"Adam. Shut up." She said, a little harsher than she intended. He looked hurt, so she scooted back. "I'm not going nuts, Adam. They're real. Which I know sounds _crazy_, trust me. But one was on that flight."

He frowned. "753?"

"Yeah. That's what killed all those passengers. He was hiding in a large ornate cabinet below deck, and when the time was right, he came up, and slaughtered everyone in sight."

Adam nodded, but not like he actually agreed with her, more like he was trying to talk someone down off of a ledge.

"Okay. Then why leave four survivors?" He murmured indulgently, trying to make her see sense.

She wasn't having any of it.

"Decoys." She said pointedly. "Everyone always focuses on survivors. No one's going to pay any attention to the dead. Leaving them to return home to their loved ones, and spread his disease."

"Cassie..."

"They're all gone aren't they? The bodies?"

For the the first time since she started talking, he looked at her like she wasn't insane. "How do you know that?" Adam looked over his shoulder, as if he were afraid someone was listening, and then, moving closer, he added in a lower tone. "Cass, if you know what happened to those people, then..."

"Of course I do, that's what I've been saying." She nodded knowingly. The next part wasn't going to go down too well. "They went home to their loved ones."

Adam swallowed hard, his limits of understanding were beginning to shake. "Cassie... this is really important. The FEDS are all over this. I've been kicked off of my case. If you know _anything – _"

"I've just told you what I know, Adam. I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm asking you to _trust _me." She took his hand in hers, watching him as she pressed it lightly to her lips. "I don't blame you for thinking I'm crazy. In some ways, I wish I was. But this is _real, _Adam, and I really didn't want to have to tell you like this, but I don't want to lose you either. You'll get hurt if you don't understand what you're fighting."

His face softened, and he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "I face bad guys every day, Cass. It's what I do."

"They're not _bad guys_, Adam. They're monsters, and they're what _I_ do. Please, let me show you. Come with me to one of the passenger's houses, and if everything is fine, I have my psychiatrist's number still pinned to the fridge, you can call her yourself."

She had to admit, he looked torn. He ran a frustrated hand across his face, throwing his head back, and groaned lightly at the ceiling. He glanced back at her. "If I do this, you promise you will take whatever we find as face value. You won't try to manipulate it to your way of thinking?"

"As insulting as that sentence is," She murmured lightly, tilting her head to one side. "Cross my heart, officer."

Adam rolled his eyes. "Fine. What passenger? Does it matter?"

Cassie pulled out her manifest. "Third one lucky?

He looked over her shoulder with disdain. "I won't even ask where you got that."

She winked. "Probably best not to. Ooo, is it okay if we take my car? I've got some things I need in there?"

He looked at her. "You don't have a car."

"I do now." She smiled. "It's probably best if – "

"I don't ask." Adam finished for her heavily. He sighed. "C'mon, lets go. Before you give me any more reasons to arrest you."

**R&R!**

**Okay, a little more progression, slowly but surely. We are leading up to more Eichhorst, I promise. But he's not around yet. I think at the present, he's busy beating up Gus and Felix in a sewer... but his plans for the Setrakian's aren't far away!**

**Glad to see this story getting a little more interest! I'm off to reply to your lovely reviews :)**

**Hope you liked this one!**


	8. Spidey-Senses

**The Strain: Bloodline**

"Did your eyes just close?"

Cassie jolted back in her seat, re-affirming her grasp on the steering wheel.

She glanced guiltily at Adam. "Sorry."

"That's it, pull over." He said, undoing his seatbelt. "We're changing places."

They switched, only because Cassie feared she might kill the both of them in New York's hectic traffic, before they even reached flight 753's third undead passenger, and she would much rather die _after _she had affirmed her sanity to Adam, than have him forever thinking she was a vampire-imagining-nutjob.

Sinking into the passenger seat, she realised her eye lids were a lot heavier than they should be, but sleep deprivation will do that to you. Perhaps she should have drunk more coffee back at the shop?

"You cold?" Adam asked, noting how tightly Cassie had wrapped her arms around herself.

She hadn't even realised she'd been doing it.

"A little." She admitted, rolling lightly onto her side. "But only because traffic had to come to a standstill under _that_ oversized monstrosity."

She nodded toward the building that appeared to almost disappear up into the sky, and Adam laughed.

"Stoneheart." He said knowingly. "A building made to suit it's owner's ego."

Shifting slightly, Cassie frowned. "Oh?"

"Eldritch Palmer." Adam murmured darkly. "A real swell _ass-hole_."

"Not his biggest fan, then?" Cassie giggled.

Adam grinned crookedly. "No, not exactly." He moved the car forward five foot, and again traffic stopped. "I mean, can you believe this guy refused to help with an investigation, when _four_ of his staff went missing last month? He just lawyered up, and paid off the families."

"You think he killed them?" Cassie asked, surprised by the revelation, but Adam shook his head.

"No. Palmer's basically on the verge of death – he wouldn't have had the strength – and _technically_ no bodies were ever found. But just the fact he didn't give a damn at all, it really got my back up. Just another jumped-up old billionaire, thinking that he's better than everyone else."

Cassie nodded, but she was thinking about something else. Something that Adam had said.

"Did you say a _month_ ago, these people went missing?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing, I just..." Cassie trailed off.

If like her grandfather thought, the Master had been planning his uprising in New York for years, it wouldn't have been immediate, he would have needed to move slowly, as not to be noticed. He would have sent someone like Eichhorst ahead, to deal with things this side of the water, but even then they would have needed help, they would have needed money, and who better than a dying, egotistical billionaire, to help their cause?

Cassie looked up at the Stoneheart building with a new sense of dread. _Zayde_ had always said the Master had human helpers.

"I'm about to say something really crazy." She warned, hoping he wouldn't turn around then and there. Even she knew her idea was a long shot.

Adam chuckled, running a rushed hand through his bangs. "Crazier than 'I kill _vampires_'?" He caught her look. "Sorry."

She waved him off. "I want to meet Palmer."

He double glanced at her, surprised. "What? Why?"

"We've got time." She said, checking the dashboard. "I've got forty-five minutes before I have to meet gramps. We can just pop in, you do your cop thing, have a little chat, and pop out."

"I really wish I thought you were joking." Adam laughed, sounding strained. "Anyway, you can't just turn up and talk to a guy like Palmer, you have to make an appointment."

Cassie scoffed. "What is he, the _queen? _C'mon, you already said you thought this guy was an _ass_. Wouldn't it be kind of fun to inconvenience him?"

"Yes. But under what guise? I have no _reason_ to talk to him. I need a little thing called _probable cause_, Cassie. This is my job we're talking about here."

"And you have it!" She said, undoing her seatbelt. "I'm a witness, and I'm coming forward and saying that a man named Thomas Eichhorst killed Palmer's staff. And I'd bet my last bagel, that Palmer knows it to."

It was Adam's turn to scoff. "Where the hell did _that_ come from? I've literally just told you about Palmer?"

"My spidey-senses." She joked lightly, panicking as the car was about to miss the Stoneheart turning. "C'mon, Adam, what do you have to lose? If I'm right, it could be really helpful. You'll know if he's lying!"

"And if you're the crazy person you're sounding like, it could mean I have a lawsuit on my hands."

"Okay, you do realize how many times you've called me 'nuts' today, right? It's getting a little insulting."

Adam sighed. "Sorry." He said again.

"It's okay."

"But, Cassie, what do you even get out of this? Who even is this Eichhorst guy?"

"Just someone I know would be capable of such things, and the knowledge that I assisted in making the streets a happier and safer place." She said sweetly.

Not to mention the knowledge of who was helping the Master with all his plans, and also identifying a definite Achilles heel to use for the future.

Her _zayde_ would be so happy...

But she didn't say any of that, better that Adam think she was just super weird, than having a vampiric agenda to her reasoning.

"Okay." He sighed eventually, after a heavy 'who-will-blink-first' match. "I'm going to do this, but _only _because, I had to come back here anyway next week to double check on some of the paperwork, and we are going to be in there for _five_ minutes, Cass; no more."

Cassie grinned. "Suits me."

"I'm so glad." He said flatly, heaving a massive sigh. "Jesus, what am I doing? Lets just get this over with."

And he dragged the car up beside the pavement.

Cassie managed to slip her dagger into the back of her jeans, before Adam could see...

**R&R!**

**Yay for quicker updates, and thank you so much for the reviews.**

**I really hope you don't get bored, next chapter is going to be taking us more into Cassandra's story, I promise.**

**See you again soon, guys :) xxxx**


	9. Going Up

**The Strain: Bloodline**

Cassandra Setrakian gazed up in wonder at the lobby around her. It was huge. People were rushing pass left and right, keen to get on with their day to day lives, and no longer awed by the building they worked in.

Cassie couldn't imagine ever becoming accustomed to the place, it was captivating. The Stoneheart Group certainly had taste, she had to give it that. Marbled floors, and mirrored edges. Glass walls, and extravagant art. Eldritch Palmer knew how to live, that was for sure, and Cassie had a hunch he'd like to stick around for the long hall, to enjoy it.

Like, forever, maybe.

"Okay." She said to Adam in a low voice, as they began their approach to the front desk. "How are we going to play this?"

"_We_?" Adam scoffed. "We, aren't going to _play_ anything. I'm going to let them know that I'm here on official police business, and you're just going to stay quiet."

"But..."

"No buts. If we're doing this, we're doing this _my_ way." He said pointedly, fixing her with a look. "No interfering."

Cassie's mouth dropped in outrage. "I would _never_ interfere! Besides, aren't they going to wonder who I am?"

"You're a criminology student." Adam replied without hesitation. "You're following me 'round for some field experience."

"Ooo, good idea!" She grinned, suddenly excited by the prospect of playing a roll.

Adam rolled his eyes.

"Glad you approve." He said flatly. "Now let me handle this."

They walked up to the reception desk, both wearing identically indifferent smiles; suitable for the occasion, and Adam showed the pretty woman behind the counter his badge.

"I'm here to see Mr. Palmer. Detective Valentine? We've spoken before."

She smiled sweetly. "Do you have an appointment?"

"M'am, this will only take a second of your boss' time. If you could let him know we're here, then we can get out of your hair."

"Mr Palmer is currently recovering from major surgery. I am afraid you will have to come back at a later date, Detective Valentine."

"Listen, m'am..."

"A _later_ date, Detective Valentine."

The receptionist smiled politely, but the smugness in her voice was unmissable, and it grated on Cassie like nails on a chalkboard, and so, moving forward casually, Cassandra leant across desk.

"Listen, Mary-sue. I'm sure you feel pretty important with your snazzy shoes, and designer ensemble, but at the end of the day, we both know you're a glorified pager. So, you can either let your boss know we're here _now_, and save us all some time, or I can come back later with a few more of the boys in blue, and maybe even some tabloids, and _you_ can explain to Mr Palmer why his private business is suddenly all over the front page news. If you're lucky, he'll let you gather up your things, before he throws your snobby, self-righteous ass out onto the street."

The woman looked terribly affronted. "You're police! You can't threaten me like that!"

"Correction. _He's _police." Cassie said, giving Adam a pointed,but subtle nod. "I can talk to you however the hell I want, as long as it's within the legal guidelines of our blessed country. Now," Cassie smiled sweetly. "Did you get all that, or did you want to write it down?"

The receptionist blinked furiously between them for a moment, but her expression was torn; Cassie knew she had hit a nerve, and finally the woman picked up her phone.

"Fitzwilliam? Yes, Detective Valentine to see Mr. Palmer. No, the woman is not an officer. Yes. I'll send them up right away."

She glared at them both coldly.

"Mr Palmer will see you now. Take these." She handed them both key cards. "Use them on the elevator, they will take you straight to Mr Palmer's office. I presume you remember, Detective, from your previous visit?"

"I do indeed." He smiled warmly, taking the cards. "And thank you, ma'am, for your cooperation."

They walked away, and Cassie was sure that if looks could kill, she would have had daggers in her back by now.

"I don't think she liked me very much." Cassie smirked, trying not to sound too proud of herself.

Adam bit back a smile. "She did kind of give off a vibe. Can I just ask, where the hell did that come from? It was like you were channelling Al Pacino."

"What?" Cassie shrugged playfully. "She was pissing me off."

They stepped inside the elevator, their cards swiping with a beep as the doors closed.

"Remind me never to do that."

She knocked him playfully. "Always."

They rose higher than Cassie thought possibly, and when the doors opened again, they were met by air similar to that on the street, though perhaps colder. Cassie shivered, as she followed Adam out into the darkened room, her footsteps echoing lightly as she carefully walked the reflective marble flooring.

They were met by a tall man, who was clearly built to take down obstacles. He was well-dressed, and he greeted them with a saddened expression, one that still held the lonely ghost of loyalty.

"Hold out your arms." He ordered softly, patting Adam down first. "Your gun, Detective."

Adam nodded. He had clearly expected this. "Of course, Fitzwilliam." He said, handing over his police grade weapon.

The apparent bodyguard turned to Cassie.

"You to, miss. Arms up."

She glared defiantly for a moment, feeling the silver of her dagger burn fiercely into her back, but with a pointed nod from Adam, she sighed, raising her arms in defeat, as predictably, Fitzwilliam located her sharpened defence.

"Funny thing for a nice girl like you to be carrying around." He said evenly, swinging it in front of her face like a pendulum.

Her eyes narrowed. "Who said I was nice? Besides, it was either that, or a candlestick, and my professor friend has that, so..." She finished lightly, purposefully refusing to meet Adam's gaze.

It wouldn't be love she saw in his eyes, that was for sure.

Fitzwilliam almost smiled. Almost. "I guess you can't be too careful these days. If you'd like to follow me, Mr Palmer is expecting you."

They walked through the darkened room, with a sense of unease Cassie could not shake, and soon enough they found Palmer, he was seated beside a large filtered window, that looked out over New York city.

Cassie instantly stilled beside to Adam.

"Ah, Detective Valentine, how are you?" The old man said, forcing a smile onto his frail features. "I see you've brought a friend?"

Adam put on his most polite poker face, and coughed. "Mr. Palmer, this is Cassandra Setrakian, she is a criminology student gaining field experience, I hope that won't be a problem?"

"Problem? Of course not. It is always important to hone young minds, is it not, Miss Setrakian?"

Cassie nodded, but she was not really paying attention, instead she was looking slightly pass Palmer, to the well-dressed gentleman that stood beside him. The gentleman with waxy skin, and a fixed, intense smile.

Eicchorst.

So that was why Palmer had windows that filtered out the light.

At least it cleared up the mystery of whether or not, Palmer was the Master's own personal cash machine.

A little too clearly for Cassie's liking.

Eichhorst's smile widened knowingly at her, and Cassie dropped her gaze. It fell briefly on Adam, then back at the elevator. She calculated the distance they were from it, the fact that they'd had their weapons taken away. She calculated the chances of their survival should they be attacked, and she watched on helplessly as Adam crossed the space of no-man's-land, into their territory, pulling out his notebook, as he questioned Palmer on the case he was never going to close.

Cassie fought back a whimper. What if Eicchorst had convinced Palmer to let them up here? She could see the lobby now on the wall to her right, illuminated on a screen, like a hundred other rooms. He would have recognised her instantly, she knew it, and rather than play it safe by disappearing, of course he preferred to advance their game.

Had Cassie stupidly allowed herself to be pulled into a mousetrap?

**R&R! **

**I'm killing you, I know. Lots more Eicchorst next chapter. Promise. Is there anything you'd like particularly to take place in the next few chapters?**

**This chapters a little longer, I hope it makes up for last weeks short one!**

**I'm off to reply to your lovely reviews. xx**


	10. Grenade

**The Strain: Bloodline**

Cassandra had a thousand thoughts running through her mind, each more chaotic than the last, and none overly helpful.

She had done this.

She had gotten Adam, and herself into this situation. She would get them out.

The Stoneheart Group. Eldrich Palmer's oversized Iron-lung, that housed the eccentric office Cassie stood in. This would not be the end for them, she would come up with a plan, she promised herself.

Sure, things were peaceable now, but what about when Palmer stopped happily answering Adam's questions about his four missing staff? What about when Palmer's henchman; Fitzwilliam, decided he didn't like the way Cassie was eyeing up her weapon in his unwavering hand? What about when Eichhorst decided playtime was over, and decided to reveal the evil that was his true self.

Eichhorst.

She could feel his eyes on her, revelling in her fear, and she fought the urge to squirm.

"I suppose you find them a macabre thing to collect?"

Cassandra snapped out of her doom-like haze. "Hm?"

Palmer. He was talking to her. He smiled, and it took her a few moments more to realise, she had in fact been staring in the direction of a large glass cabinet, it's shelves playing host to several modernised canopic jars. Each a different organ, each placed like some kind of trophy.

She turned back to Palmer. "I guess they're something of an ice-breaker." She said evenly, hyper aware of Adam's presence and the fact he was still far from her reach.

Palmer tittered. "Indeed, my dear. My own failed body parts. I like to look at them. They serve as a constant reminder of what I have had to overcome in this life. The struggles that have been endured."

"I see." She replied, her tone cool, despite her attempt to cover it.

Adam looked at her oddly, and Palmer laughed.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure _you_ do, Miss Setrakian. Your people have only ever struggled, have they not?History has not been kind to them."

He was eyeing her 'Star of David'; peering at it as though it were some far off thing. Cassie fingered it protectively; gently releasing it from her touch, before she coldly narrowed her eyes.

Despite the formal niceties Palmer was boasting, Cassie was no fool, she knew when she was being mocked.

"God sends humanity struggles, to humble us, Mr Palmer." She gave the room a sweeping glance. "Perhaps some of us just need an extra push."

He laughed softly, but his eyes flashed, and Cassie couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit smug, that she had so easily hit a nerve.

Palmer turned to Adam. "Will that be all, Detective Valentine?" He said, all forced warmth gone from his tone. "I am growing tired."

Adam cleared his throat. "Actually, one last question, Sir. Do you – "

Cassie coughed. Loudly. Dramatically placing her hand over her chest, as though the effort took her breath away. She did not need Adam asking about Eichhorst when he was standing in the room.

Scary enough being in the lion's den, without then baiting the lion.

"Wow. Sorry." She said awkwardly, registering Adam's extremely confused expression, as she ran her fingers through her hair. She nodded to the elevator. "Hadn't we better be going, Detective? We have that appointment?"

"Err...yeah?" He said, noting her pointed look. He smiled politely at the three men opposite. "Thank you, Mr Palmer, for your time. My boss is a stickler for paperwork."

"It is perfectly fine. I understand that you have a duty to uphold."

Adam lightly inclined his head.

"Fitzwilliam will show you out." He waved dismissively, sending his manservant forward.

"Follow me." Fitzwilliam rumbled.

Cassie allowed Adam to take the lead, her gaze lingering on Palmer and Eichhorst a little longer than was comfortable.

She was unnerved. As though she had thrown a grenade, and no explosion had followed. Where was the bang? Why had Eichhorst not attacked? What was he playing at? This was the perfect opportunity. They were on his turf, no one knew they were here. He wasn't going to get a chance like this again. Not any time soon.

"Feel better soon, Mr Palmer." She said, finally falling into an awkward step behind Adam and Fitzwilliam.

The latter handed them their weapons back.

"Good day, Miss Setrakian. Detective Valentine." He gestured into the lift. "Hope I don't see you anytime soon."

Her and Adam stepped in.

"Can't make any promised." Adam smiled. "Goodbye, Mr Fitzwilliam."

The doors closed and for a moment they stood in silence. Then...

"You going to tell me what that was all about upstairs?" Adam asked, glancing at his watch. "Like the giant silver dagger you had hidden up your back?"

Cassie shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I got the answers I needed. Now we just have to go meet Gramps."

"I didn't even ask about Eichhorst."

"You didn't need to. He was there." She said quietly, briefly eyeing the camera in the corner of the elevator.

Was he watching her now?

"That waxy guy was _Eichhorst_?" Adam pressed, sounding only more confused. "Why didn't you say?"

"I didn't want to draw attention to you."

"Why?"

"Because he could have killed you, – or worse."

Cassie thought about Adam without his hazel flecked eyes, the green replaced by red and a black, never ending abyss. Of his olive skin turning grey, of his throat; twisting and contorting to hold the force of the _Strigoi _stinger.

She fought back a shudder, but Adam laughed lightly. He didn't understand.

"I doubt he would have tried anything. He'd have no alibi, not to mention witnesses."

"It wouldn't have mattered." She said hollowly, Eicchorst's smile creeping mockingly across her synapse. "You don't know him like I do."

"Why? Is he a vampire too?" He tittered.

She looked at him, and his smile fell.

"Oh c'mon, Cassie. Be serious. He was just a normal guy."

"He was wearing make-up."

"No, Cassie. He wasn't. Please, you promised you wouldn't do this." Adam sighed, lightly pinching the bridge of his nose.

Cassie turned to him hotly. "Do _what_?"

"Twist the truth to suit your own ends. Look, I took you to see Palmer; pointlessly as it turns out, I shouldn't have even done it. Can't you meet me half way on this? The whole world isn't vampires."

"No." She barked crossly. "Not yet. But they will be if no one does anything to stop the ones that are."

"Cassie I can't listen to this. Please, stop."

"Adam, don't be so blind! You were in that room up there. The light was filtered out, his skin was waxy because of the layers of make-up he has to put on. It was _freezing_ up there, and yet he was the only one other than Palmer who wasn't cold."

"Oh, so Palmer's a vampire to?" Adam teased flatly. "Cass, I thought I was helping you by going along with things, but I think I've just made you worse. We shouldn't have come here."

"You're right. _We _shouldn't have." She said, her eyes blurring with angry, betrayed tears.

Why wouldn't he believe her? Even simply trust her? Why was he getting mad?

Adam saw her crying, and despite himself, reached out, but she shut him down.

"Not here. I don't want to do this _here_. I just want to meet Gramps."

The doors dinged open, and he sighed.

"Okay."

Adam walked out, and Cassie made to follow suit, but as she put a determined toe forward, the doors snapped shut again.

"What?" She punch the buttons.

Nothing.

Adam. He was yelling from the other side, but she couldn't quite make it out. She hit the door.

"Adam! Adam, can you hear me?"

A muffled, "Yeah!"

She tried to force the doors part, but her arms gave way before they even rattled. Cassie looked back up at the camera.

It was time to panic.

Finally, the bomb had gone off.

She dropped to the floor, hoping to find an escape hatch or something. The elevator went dark, and she gasped, biting back a scream, and yet was nowhere near relieved when the lights returned, only red, and just as foreboding as the dark.

"C'mon, don't do this to me." She pleaded, fumbling around. Though she didn't really know who she was speaking to.

God? He had more pressing issues to deal with.

Her fingers found the edging of what she hoped was a door, but as with all good things in life, there must be bad. Her discovery of a possible exit, was somewhat overshadowed, by the steady, seeping fog of gas, from the low, and high vents of the elevator.

Cassie covered her mouth, but already she was getting sleepy.

Palmer's security really was top notch.

"Adam!" She yelled groggily, pressing her face right against the door. She thought she heard him answer. "Go meet Gramps! I'll catch up! Please... Gramps needs...help. Third passenger..."

Cassandra felt her knees crumple beneath her. The last thing she remembered was a weightless feeling, as though being dragged upward, and then, everything went black.

**R&R!**

**So! Super exciting, annoying finish! Yaaaay! But quick update. Does that make up for it? I won't leave you waiting long, but please let me know your thoughts :)**

**Would you like some chapters from other characters POV? What would you like to gain from them?**

**Byyyye xxxxxxx**


	11. Bridled

**The Strain: Bloodline**

_Cassandra stood at the top of a familiar set of stairs. From the dark beneath, something was calling her name. Calling her down to the unknown. She shook her head._

_She didn't want to go._

_She didn't want to see what was down there._

_And yet her feet moved of their own accord. Dragging her down. Down into the darkness._

_She was in her old living room. The one from her childhood. On the couch she saw the back of her parents heads, leant together as if in embrace._

_Cassandra whimpered. "Mommy? Daddy?"_

_Suddenly she was in front of them, but they were not themselves. They were _Strigoi_, perverse, and from their chests protruded the handles of two silver swords; silver which shone brightly in the night._

"_Why did you do this?" Her mother asked. Her vampiric features twisting into human hurt._

"_Don't you love us?" He father added, taking hold of his wife's pale hand._

_Cassie shook her head, her fear rising, as her parents did from their seats. _

"_You're not real." She whispered, bunching her hands into fists. "You're not real. I'll wake up soon. You're not real."_

"_There, there,_ Mäuschen._" Her mother cooed softly, wiping away Cassie's tears, and pulling her daughter lightly into her arms. "You had a bad dream. Let us make it better."_

_Cassie screamed as the stinger's erupted from their mouths._

"Leave me alone!" She yelled, pushing herself back.

It took her moment more to realise, and to her horror, that she was no longer in her parents living room. She was on the floor of something akin to a padded cell, only this circular room's floor was hard and cold, the lights above her humming like a swarm of bees.

But that was not what was most disturbing.

She had been stripped down to nothing but her underclothes, and like some animal, she'd had fastened around her throat, a thick leather collar, attached to a long, and heavy chain on a pulley system.

Cassandra pulled at the iron, the effort did nothing other than hurt her neck, so she desperately clawed at the leather.

Nothing.

Having her first two efforts fail, she tried to stand, but her legs gave out beneath her, as she yelled; no doubt an after effect of whatever it was that had knocked her out in the elevator.

The elevator... she was remembering now.

How could she have been so stupid? She'd walked straight into Eichhorst's hands, and worse she had dragged Adam in there with her.

What about Adam?

Had he gone and found her grandfather like she'd asked?

Pain shot through her head, and holding her face, Cassie grimaced. This was as bad as it got, she was in so much shit. She knew, with a cold, cruel, but perfect understanding, that she would die inside this room.

A small hiss sounded suddenly in her ears, as if something was being released, and in front of her, a small section of wall swung slowly back, revealing a door, and a content Eichhorst still looking very much human.

She pressed herself harder into the wall, noting that in his hands was a tray. Cassie was too terrified to care what was on it.

"You are finally awake, _Mäuschen_. I thought you never never break from your slumber." He informed her lightly, placing the tray down neatly beside her.

It contained various fast food supplies, and water.

Cassie said nothing, and he smiled.

"You are feeling out of sorts, yes? It will pass once Palmer's narcotics have worked their way out of your system."

"How long have I been in here?" She snapped fearfully, fighting to keep her voice steady.

Eichhorst straightened his cuff. "A few hours, no more."

"And Adam?"

"Ah yes, Detective Valentine. He was most hard to get rid of." Eichhorst moved so he was directly in front of her, looking down from a most foreboding height. He clasped his hands. "Luckily a call from his precinct was all that was needed to remove him from the situation – after many offerings of your assured safety, of course."

"He left here and went to the precinct?" Cassie repeated quietly, unsure whether to believe Eichhorst or not.

Adam was supposed to have met with her grandfather. If that didn't happen, then she would have two loved ones in danger, and she didn't have the luxury of worrying about that right now.

Eichhorst crouched down beside her, tilting his head as if observing a rare find. Cassie glared back defiantly, but her chest shook under the pressure of a fearful heart, all-consuming as it thumped loudly in her ears.

Despite herself, she squared her jaw. "Why am I still alive?"

"I told you before, _Mäuschen._"He smirked. _"_There are plans in motion."

"What _plans_?"

Eichhorst grinned, reaching out and brushing her cheek. A horrible reflection of their conversation when she was small. She knocked his hand away, but still he smiled.

"All in good time." He murmured, briefly clasping her chin as he smoothly moved to stand. "For now, I have business to attend. You will eat while I am gone."

"I'm not hungry." Cassie muttered darkly, wincing as more pain shot through her head.

She felt as though she had the mother of all hangovers.

Eichhorst paused when she spoke, turning slowly on the spot to look at her, before he moved his attention to the long metal chain, and then suddenly, and without warning, he yanked her towards him.

Cassie flew forward, crashing at his feet. She cried out, but when she made to stand, he kept her on her knees, using the chain as some kind of leash. Twisting his hands painfully into her hair, he yanked her head back.

"I will not tolerate insubordination, _Mäuschen._" Eichhorst said calmly, his breath tickling her ear when he spoke. "You will follow orders. We are not going to debate the issue."

Cassie reflexively looped her fingers around his, trying to unhook their vice-like grip from her roots.

She struggled, but it did little good.

Fighting back tears, she reached blindly for her 'Star of David', but of course, it was not there. He had taken that from her as well.

**"****_Gey strashe di gens!_****" She spat, hatred boiling to the surface.**

**Eichhorst scoffed. **

**"Don't be foolish, Cassandra." He warned gently, looking into her eyes and soul. "I am all that stands between you, and complete destruction. You would do well to remember that, ****_dear one_****."**

**He released her, and she collapsed to the floor, breathing raggedly despite every attempt to cover it. **

**Eichhorst turned for the door, then, and he was gone.**

**What the hell was she going to do?**

**[-]**

**_Up at the very top of the Stoneheart group, Eldrich Palmer, together with his most trusted servant, Fitzwilliam, stared at the glowing screens. Screens that revealed all the secrets of the building._**

**_Right now, one screen captivated their attentions most. It showed a small white room. A room housing a girl, tied up like a some dog. Palmer saw that Eichhorst had her by the hair, and from behind him, the old man heard the deep disapproving tut of his manservant._**

**"_This is barbaric." Fitzwilliam growled, though his body, trained as it was, showed no signs of distress._**

**_Palmer nodded. "It is necessary." He replied, now frowning at the screen. "Our friend Eichhorst, was in need of her, and we must do anything we can to help our friends."_**

**"_To what end, Mr Palmer? What can he possibly want with her, other than to feed?"_**

**"_He did not say." Palmer shrugged. "I can only presume that it has something to do with the Jew that he spoke of."_**

**"_The hunter?"_**

**"_Yes. She is his granddaughter."_**

**"_Eichhorst wants to hurt him."_**

**_Palmer nodded. "That is a likely motive, yes. Though why he doesn't simply kill her, I can not say."_**

**_Fitzwilliam stared at the young girl in the vampire's arms, he remembered how light she had felt when he carried her down to Eichhorst's suite. Her suffering now, Fitzwilliam knew he had played a part in that, and it turned his stomach._**

**"_Death is a mercy." Fitzwilliam murmured. "I do not think it is in Eichhorst's nature to be merciful."_**

**_Palmer smiled. "No. No it is not."_**

**R&R!**

**Please! A few words, no more. I think I'm going in the right direction, but I don't know if im missing anything. I see the story is getting more favs, but more reviews would be great to... pretty please? ;)**

**I'll try to update soon! No later than a week :) xxxx**


	12. To Serve

**The Strain: Bloodline**

Hours must have passed, but Cassandra Setrakian paced 'round, and 'round her circular prison. Tired, and cold, but feverish with desperation. She had to get out of there, but she'd tried everything. She'd tried picking the lock of the collar tied to her neck, she'd tried snapping the chain in the gears of the pulley system, she'd tried breaking down the door. Nothing, not even a creak. She had even lowered herself to screaming for help, she knew would never come, and nothing burned more than lost dignity.

Her pride. It was to be her ruin.

She buried her face in her hands, the smell of the cell burned her nostrils no matter where she turned. Bleach. The room was caked in the stuff. Obviously Eichhorst had held a previous tenant before her; Cassie had found a few over looked specks of blood, on what appeared to be some kind of feeding alter.

She shivered at the sight, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, as she gazed upon it with disgust. Was that really to be her fate? Served up like some lamb for sacrifice? She wondered if her predecessor had struggled when Eichhorst cranked them into submission. Had they screamed?

He would have enjoyed their pain. The more they fought, the more he would have felt the rapture. His sadistic nature did not end with his humanity. Cassandra remembered well her grandfather's brief tales of the camp he was held in. She had no wish to become another party to that horror.

So she sat with her back against the feeding alter. She would not be toyed with before, or dragged there against her will. She would not fight a battle she could not win. Eichhorst would feed off her eventually; of that she was certain, but when it happened, she would accept her end gracefully, and with honour. She would not further his pleasure, with childish and pointless pleas.

Her _zayde_ would be proud.

"I'm sorry for being so stupid." She whispered. "For not listening to you. I never meant to cause you more hurt."

He would forgive her, and when she was turned, and she came to destroy him, he would release her.

At least she had that comfort.

Cassandra drew her knees up to her chest, prepared to wait, but that was when a familiar hiss sounded from behind her. She bit down on her tongue to stop herself from crying, and her spine tingled mockingly, as she felt what was certain to be a content Eichhorst, enter the room.

"Hello, **_Mäuschen._****" He purred.**

**Cassie gazed up at him. His human facade had at the end been cast off. He was finally the monster she had grown to know intimately in her nightmares, though he was still dressed in human attire. **

**His bloodied iris' bored into her, and she glared despite herself.**

**"Eichhorst." She acknowledged darkly. "You didn't have to rush back on my behalf."**

**"Oh, but I wanted to. I have thought of nothing else all day."**

**Her lip curled in disgust. "Your master does allow you, your own thoughts, then? I didn't think puppets could move without their strings being pulled? **

**Cassie hated seeing the pleasure that flushed his face. The fact that he was already enjoying himself, both sickened and enraged her. She had vowed she would not give him extra satisfaction, and yet her words hadn't riled him, in fact, he seemed to relish them.**

**"I am not a puppet, Cassandra. I am a servant, as you shall be." He smiled, touching her hair, as he casually breezed behind her. "Once you are transformed, you will understand. You have a place in all of this. The Master sees great potential in you."**

**"I don't ****_care_**** what he sees!" She snapped, adrenaline shaking through her body, as she heard his hand grip the pulley. "My mind and body are my own. I will never be one of his."**

**"No. Not one of his." Eichhorst murmured softly. "One of ****_mine_****. The Master has promised you to me. You will be my acolyte, ****_Mäuschen_****. A small reward for my eternal devotion."**

**The pulley began to crank, and Cassandra barely had time to process what he had said, when she felt her throat being pulled back against the stone. Stretched and exposed, she gripped the alter to stop herself from choking completely; pushing back painfully against her confines.**

**"Why?" She managed to choke out, her sight blinded by the bright overheads. "Why would you want that? You could have anyone!"**

**"Because, dear one." He sat beside her on the alter, his smooth hand, brushing away any stray hairs from her face, as he gazed down at her. "Your Grandfather has one more lesson he must learn, and you are going to help me teach him." He said, carefully following her jawline. "The Master will be so pleased."**

**"I don't give a shit!" She spat, hatred and fear fuelling her anger. "I hope you both rot in hell! ****_Zol er krenken un gedenken!_****"**

**Eichhorst shook his head indulgently. "So much like your Grandfather. Your eyes are like looking into his." His gaze fell to the floor, spotting the uneaten food and water. He sighed heavily. "You really should have eaten, ****_Mäuschen,_**** it would have helped ease the change. Still. It will perhaps humble you, yes? That is why God gives you struggles, is it not?"**

**Cassie glared as he threw her own words back in her face, her eyes blazed.**

**"I hope you choke."**

**He placed his palm against her forehead, forcing her to hold his gaze, as tauntingly, his grin widened. **

**"Let us enjoy this moment... hm?"**

**Cassandra felt her body shake, she felt her heart hammering hysterically against her chest, sure that at any moment, it would burst out, and end all their troubles there and then.**

**She heard his stinger before she saw it, a heavy slithering that worked up to the roof of his mouth, through his body. It erupted from his lips, like a cobra striking it's prey. A long, erect muscle that penetrated her throat in one swift thrust. Her gasp was quickly silenced, but despite her promise to herself, soundless tears did fall, bathing her cheeks in salty misery, as she watched him contently take his fill.**

**It was grotesque. A complete perversion of humanity.**

**Moments passed, and Cassandra felt her body sinking in on itself; immobile, and heavy. She felt the weight of the shadows around her eyes, and then, after hearing a voice she did not quite understand, or know, and unsure whether or not it was mocking her, she fell into merciful blackness.**

**"****_Zayde..._****"**

****R&R!****

****I know... short! But I can't help where I feel a chapter should end. And this time, it was here! ****

****I do have a question...****

****Do you guys want a chapter from other characters POV, if so...who? I'm going to need to think about this, so please drop in suggestions.****

****I'm off to reply to reviews, sadly some of which I can't, as the reviewer was not logged in ****

****:( Thank you, Big Sexy Beans!****


	13. Heart of Mine

**The Strain: Bloodline**

**(Eichhorst)**

Eichhorst had remained in his feeding cell.

Her heartbeat was significantly quieter now. He could hear it. Clear as a bell. Of course, that would change once the worms got hold of her. Transforming her frail human interior, into something perfect and pure. Immortal.

Eichhorst looked upon Cassandra with a sense of pride; much like a father would a successful prodigy, or a husband that walked with a beautiful wife on his arm. She would now forever be his, and his game with Setrakian would almost be at it's end.

Eichhorst had felt compelled towards the boy Abraham, the moment he had laid eyes on him back at the camp. As soon as Setrakian had stepped forward to claim ownership of the intricate carving of 'The Hand of Miriam', Eichhorst had felt his attachment spark. The boy intrigued him, he was skilled, stubborn, brave, and his belief in his God was something of a challenge.

That of course changed as time passed. Eichhorst eventually lost his human shell, and became more under the Master's guidance, and Setrakian's obsession for revenge, had him following them like a bad smell, all over the world. Always their shadow, never quite close enough to make contact, but never far behind.

Then of course he had met his wife, and for Eichhorst, this was where the fun had truly begun.

How to make a man of conviction, such as Abraham, lose faith in his God? There could be only one way, one true insidious way. The cruel and violent loss of a loved one. That would shake any man's foundations, would it not?

Miriam's death had also served as an apt punishment, of course, after all of Setrakian's floundering about after them, like a fly you can't quite swat. Something had to be done. Eichhorst had overlooked the boy, the toddler who had been sired before Miriam's illness had claimed her. The mother had a right to her son, after all, but Abraham had managed to return before his wife could claim what was rightfully hers.

Eichhorst thought of the suffering the Jew must had gone through killing his own wife, and smiled.

Such was the first stone of faith removed.

The next had come much later of course, when, on Eichhorst's second week in New York, he had come across Setrakian's familiar scent, following it to the quiet of the outer suburbs, and finding a large warm house, with happy smiling occupants.

Setrakian's boy had grown to a man, he had married and fathered a child of his own. Cassandra. Eichhorst saw her first through the window, constantly watchful, as he waited silently in the shadows. He saw as she fell contently asleep in her Grandfather's arms. He saw the unwavering love that bled from; the now old, Jew's eyes. He saw an opportunity.

And the Master, reading his deliciously cruel thoughts, actively encouraged it.

So he had waited. He watched Setrakian leave, half tempted to drink him then and there, but there would be no symmetry in that. No poetry. He would carry out the plan.

Eventually the house fell mostly into darkness, only the living room remained subtly lit, and Eichhorst took his chance.

Setrakian's Son, and his young Wife, had fallen asleep together on their sofa. The television played nothing but static, and yet they did not hear him coming. He killed the woman first, her screams silenced by his stinger, her necklace ripped from her throat, but even so, the man did not wake. Only when Eichhorst crushed her skull – the Master had no wish for newborns at the time – did Abraham's Son, finally know the cold realisation of his new reality.

"Know that this is your father's doing." Eichhorst remembered saying, right before he launched his stinger directly into young Setrakian's jugular.

However, unlike his wife, the man was strong, he put up a fight, causing complete chaos in his surroundings. He somehow managed to unhook himself from Eichhorst, despite the fact he was bleeding out profusely, and throw himself onto the floor.

"C—a-ssie." He had choked, half staggering, half crawling toward the staircase. He dramatically achieved one single bloodied hand print on the wall, before Eichhorst dragged him easily back across the room.

"Fear not about your little one." Eichhorst had purred, shoving his prey back down into the seat. "I shall see that she is taken care of most diligently."

He'd found much pleasure in seeing the horror in the man's eyes, right before the light faded from them.

Eichhorst had been about to turn his attention to the sleeping child, when he heard little Cassandra stir. Her tiny feet, making the smallest of pitter-patters across the floor boards, as she cautiously rose to investigate the strange noise.

He heard her bedroom door open, and smiled. He would wait for her in the shadows, let her see the horrifying beauty of his work.

When her young face appeared, it was confused at first. She crossed from staircase to middle of room like a long lost ghost. Her forehead crinkling prettily, as her toes sank into the freshly blooded carpet.

She'd bent to retrieve her mother's 'Star of David', pausing in thought, her confusion turning to downright horror, and that was when Eichhorst had chose to reveal himself.

"_Strigoi._"

The moment that she spoke, he couldn't get over how much she reminded him of the young Abraham, from her chocolate gaze, to the stubborn jaw-line, even her words were like hearing an echo of the past.

She was strong, he realised, his brain suddenly fabricating the beginnings of a plan. At the moment she had drove the standard kitchen knife into his chest, it was the moment he knew he would not kill her.

The Master had immediately agreed, of course. Without his blessing, Eichhorst would do nothing.

"_Leave her, Eichhorst. You're right, she could perhaps be of use to us one day." _

As always, the Master was as omniscient as ever. Cassandra would be the key to ending the Jew, and at last the explosion of obsession that was Setrakian's vengeance, would finally fold in on itself, and she would be the one to deal the final blow.

Then, silence.

The great game would be over.

Eichhorst stood finally from his feeding alter, undoing Cassandra's throat from the collar, and lifting her confidently into his arms.

She did not need to be kept in confinement any longer, she would be too weak to attempt escape, and once the transformation was over, she would be consistently adept at following orders.

She had no where to go.

Humming a tune from another lifetime, Eichhorst brought her into his suite, ignoring her small whimpers of pain, as he laid her out artfully on the bed. Her agony would pass, it was merely her body bettering itself.

Soon, this would all be a dream to her, soon her life would be clearer, it would have purpose, soon, she would be his.

[-]

**(Abraham Setrakian)**

Slowly working his way to the front of the shop, Abraham realised that it had been a long time since he had felt this sickness so freshly. The feeling of over whelming emptiness, that came hand in hand, with the sudden loss of a loved one.

Cassandra.

Where on earth was she?

Abraham cursed himself. He should have known better than to let her race off after that boy, the Detective, but he could see it in her eyes, she would not have focused, had her mind been left to worry about him.

So he'd consented to her running off across the city, putting herself at risk in the process, but she had promised him she would be back in time.

That was over twenty-four hours ago, and he hadn't seen hide, or hair of them since.

That wasn't like Cassie. His _Bubala _was smart, she was safe, not to mention more than capable of protecting herself. No, if she was missing it was by the hands of no ordinary _Strigoi_. That left only two other options. The Master, or...

"Eichhorst." Setrakian answered himself allowed, gripping the handle of the sword tighter in his arthritic grasp.

The monster would pay in silver

Yet Abraham shook his head. There was nothing he could do now. If Cassie had been turned she would come for him, and it would already be too late. However, if she was in reach of help, then the best thing he could do, would be to follow the Master's trail, and hope that it eventually lead to her.

Setrakian hated to be distant, but the time for grieving was not now. Now logical thinking was his friend, and it would be the only thing to get him through the coming weeks.

Locking up his shop tightly, he turned to the vehicle where Dr. Goodweather, and Dr. Martinez sat waiting half-patiently, and sighed a heavy breath,

It was time to pay a visit to Jim Kent.

**R&R!**

**Okay, a little filler, just to give you some context? I hope this met some of what people were asking for? If you liked this, then I'll do more in the future. Maybe Adam... if you're interested?**

**I'm off to reply to beautiful reviews!**


	14. Fever

**The Strain: Bloodline**

Cassie stirred drunkenly from her sleep, the more she moved, the more she felt like she'd been hit by a truck. She open her eyes, and they were met with ceiling, her vision blurred, and her trajectory swaying as though she were on a ship.

Her stomach churned, and she groaned.

What the hell was happening? She hadn't felt this ill, since she'd been sent to hospital with flu five years ago. Her temperature had been so high, the doctors didn't think she was going to make it through the night; it was the first time she'd seen her _zayde_ look frightened.

He never stopped praying, and luckily, someone listened.

Breathing heavily, Cassie swiped a sweaty palm across her face, trying to make sense of her current terrifying situation, and then, through a kind of tainted mist, a nightmare appeared before her eyes.

The white room. Her restraints. Eichhorst. He had drunk from her; of course he had, and that could only leave one, final, vile truth.

She was changing.

"No..." She suddenly coughed, her speech slurred. "No!"

This wouldn't happen to her, it couldn't, it wasn't fair. To be turned into one of those things was a punishment too cruel, to insidious, how could she possibly deserve it? Had God forsaken her so easily? Before it had happened, she had found solace in the fact that her _zayde_ would release her when she came for him, but what if he didn't, what if she killed him? She would rather death now, than living the life of an undead puppet.

Her head rolled, and she felt the weight of a pillow adjust accordingly. Where the hell was she? Her vision cleared enough to make out a low-lit suite, and a vanity table, but that was all she could attain.

She noted an open closet filled with sleek, designer suits.

Was this Eichhorst's _room_?

Summoning every strength of her being, Cassie shakily sat herself up. She took a moment, and then, using the bedside table for support, attempted to stand onto her feet.

No good. She fell. Knocking the table-lamp to the floor, with a loud smash, as she crumpled into a heap.

She sobbed, the world spinning even faster than it had before, as she laid her head against the carpet.

Cassie closed her eyes to steady herself, but she wasn't prepared for the next invasion of her senses. A voice that both repulsed and compelled her, all at once. She shook under the weight of it.

"_Cassandra. Do not fight me._" It said, it's words reverberating off the walls of her skull. "_Let me take away the pain. You need never feel it again._"

Cassie paused, hoping the feeling of it's presence would go away, but it did not, and she resigned herself to answering.

"I know who you are." She said shakily, her voice weak from the virus' attack on her body. "But you are no Master of mine, _Strigoi._"

"_You can not win this fight, child._ _You risk only your body dying before your transformation is complete."_

"Good!"

The voice laughed tauntingly. "_It is the wood-carver I hear on your tongue, but it matters not. In the end, whichever path you choose, will lead to my victory. Your world belongs to the night."_

"Get out of my head!"

More laughter followed, and Cassandra bit her lip, the very sound of him inside her, was like a thousand knives slicing her brain. Burring her face in the carpet, was all she could do to stop herself from screaming.

Silence followed, and she breathed, her body relaxing in the small moment of relief she was granted. She groaned again.

"God..."

The door sounded suddenly, and she started. Eichhorst. He paused in the middle of the room, looking down on her with a light smile, as he slowly took in her position.

"Ahh, _Mäuschen, _finally you are awake." He breathed heavily, and for the first time, she noticed strain in his voice. His free-hearted ego was dulled.

Eichhorst turned awkwardly toward the vanity table, and quickly limp forward and onto the seat. It was then that Cassie saw it; his leg.

"You've been shot." She noted breathlessly, gripping onto the bed for support, as she precariously pulled herself into a sitting position. "Anyone I know?"

"Your friend, Dr. Goodweather." He answered quietly, sounding uncharacteristically bitter. "He disapproved of my attempt to take your grandfather's life. So for now, A230385, lives to fight another day."

Cassie coughed. "The Docs a terrible shot."

Eichhorst nodded. "Luckily for us."

"There is no _us_." She spat, grimacing terribly, as he suddenly dug two long fingers into his thigh, retrieving from deep inside, a small, smoking silver bullet. She watched him throw it angrily to one side, and glared. "I'll die before I'm one of you."

"But it is already happening, _süß, _Cassandra." He said, standing now with a new sense of ease. "Can you not feel my worm inside you?"

"I feel nausea. I guess the two could be closely linked." She glared, coughing until she was forced to catch her breath in painful, ragged gasps. She rested her head against the side of the bed, shivering despite the warmth of the room. Her face darkened. "_Zayde_ is going kill you for this. For everything you've done to our family. He won't rest."

Eichhorst smiled, a light, indulgent chuckle passing his lips, as he steadily made his way towards her. Cassie coward as he crouched down, remembering too well the last time they'd been so close, and watching her knowingly, he sighed, threading one of her thick chocolate tendrils carefully through his fingers.

"A_h, mein liebes Kind. _Not if _you_ kill him first."

Cassandra's eyes widened, and for a moment she saw herself standing over her grandfather's dying body, blood dripping messily from her lips, as she admired the disturbing handy work of her first kill.

She dropped her gaze, and Eichhorst raised his eyebrows omnisciently, his fingertips brushing her cheek, before strong arms lifted her abruptly onto the bed. The gesture shot pain through her body; causing a tearful cry to rip harshly from her lips, but she quickly stifled it, quite aware that he was once again staring longingly down at her.

She shook her head. "No." She breathed, reading him instantly. "Get away from me."

Cassie tried to scramble away, but in her weakened state, she was no match for Eichhorst's speed and strength. He climbed on top of her, pinning her arms painfully against the mattress.

He smiled at her struggles. "Ah, _Mäuschen. _You need to know when you have been caught. The fight is over for you."

"Get off of me!"

He grinned, ignoring her screams. "I suppose it does make for more interesting sport."

A moment passed before his stinger caught her in the throat. Then, the world went dark.

[-]

_With his employer resting in the wings, Reggie Fitzwilliam stared at the security screens in front of him, with a face unreadable. He bore the mask, that the military had taught him strictly to use in all uncomfortable circumstances; for proprieties sake. One could argue that life was always uncomfortable of late, but what he was seeing now, disturbed him more than anything he'd seen out there on the streets. Disgusted him, even._

_Observing the screen that showed Eichhorst's room, he watched the Setrakian girl struggle under the German's weight, but it was futile. In her weakened state, it would have been impossible to put up any kind of adequate defence. She stilled once his stinger penetrated the thin skin of her throat. Her body growing lethargic as Eichhorst carefully drained her. Eventually he crawled slowly off of her, whispering something into her ear, before turning pointedly for the closet._

_Fitzwilliam shook his head. What was thinking joining with these people? They truly were monsters, and he had openly encouraged, and assisted in their behaviour, and worse, he had dragged Fitzwilliam into this hell with him._

_Enough, was enough._

_It was time to talk with his employer._

**R&R!**

**Okay...so more Eichhorst/Cassie, little Master in there to. I hope I'm doing okay. You will let me know won't you?**

**I'm off to reply to reviews!**

**xxx**


	15. Knight Not So Shining

**The Strain: Bloodline**

Cassandra was dreaming; she knew that much, but there was a force as well, something shaking her. It didn't seem to be coming from the dream. She lashed out blindly, groaning something even she couldn't comprehend, but the presence wouldn't leave her.

She just wanted to sleep.

Why wouldn't it just let her sleep?

Voices. So many; she couldn't distinguish one from another, until finally...

"Miss Setrakian?"

Cassandra opened her eyes.

"You." She breathed brokenly, weakened by the virus that tore viciously through her veins.

She found herself gazing up into the deep dark orbs of Eldritch Palmer's manservant; Fitzwilliam. His face appeared contorted. Emotion twisting his features into pity, concern, and unless she was very much mistaken, guilt.

He glanced nervously around the room, not seeing the need to reintroduce himself.

"Can you walk?" Was all he said, and Cassandra slowly shook her head. "Then I'll carry you."

She felt herself being lifted into strong arms, her head falling back against his shoulder, but even in her sorry state, she wasn't blind enough not to recognise a rescue attempt.

"Eichorst." She warned, her voice cracking under the strain.

"I know. We have to move quickly. He's gone somewhere with Mr Palmer, but I'm not sure how much time we have."

His words left him in a rush, and they were moving along in quick steady strides.

Cassandra coughed.

"I'm turning."

"I know."

"Kill me."

Fitzwilliam stopped suddenly in his tracks, he gazed at her.

"You don't understand."

"I do." She said more forcefully. "I'm know what I'm asking. Please. Kill me."

He looked at her with an expression that said he was torn. His gaze dropped, his morality suddenly too weighty on his conscience, until eventually morality won out.

"When you're turned. Not before."

Cassandra's heart sank, and she looked him squarely in the eye.

"Why are you even doing this? Palmer – "

"Is no longer my employer." He said stiffly, not looking at her now. "And it's the right thing to do."

Cassie fell silent, she frowned. "But I'm turning anyway. It's over."

Fitzwilliam sighed heavily. "Your fate was in my hands for a time, and I blindly followed orders. I am as much to blame for what's happened to you, as those monsters. I couldn't go back to my family knowing I had just left you to rot."

Cassandra didn't answer. She knew well the burden of an unabsolved heart; she would not allow another person to carry such a weight upon their shoulders. No matter what Fitzwilliam had done to her, or others, it wasn't in her to watch another suffer.

"You'll stay with me until the end?" She whispered tentatively.

He inclined his head. "Until the end. Then I promise, I will do what needs to be done."

"Right, then lets go before that Nazi _asshole_ comes back."

Fitzwilliam seemed relieved that she hadn't put up a protest, but if Cassandra was honest, she didn't really have the energy to fight. Maybe the Master was right, maybe her body would die before the change could completely take effect? She was beginning to wonder. Cassie wasn't completely aware of time, that was true, but she was sure it had at least been a day or two since she had been infected? She had expected more of the virus' effects to be taking hold by now...

Suddenly a burst of wind hit them, and they were outside. Cassandra could have danced, she'd never been so starved for fresh air, and smiled despite everything, though the light hurt her eyes, and the cold bit her skin.

She shifted awkwardly as Fitzwilliam opened a card door, sliding her gently onto the back seat, before his velvety voice tingled her ears.

"There's a bag down there with some clothes, if you can manage it." He added softly, shutting the car door and moving 'round to the drivers seat. He got in. "There's also this – "

Cassandra couldn't quite make out what he was holding in front of her, but she felt something cold and delicate pressed into her palm, and looked down. Her shaking fingers found the smooth edges of a six point star, and her chest shook.

"Thank you." Was all she could say, before pulling it gratefully over her head. He must have saved it from Eichorst. "Thank you."

Fitzwilliam nodded silently, and Cassie felt the car lurch into motion. Ignoring the pain that shot through her body, she grabbed up the bag that had been placed at her feet, pulling out some dark sweats and a vest to give herself some dignity. She gazed out the rear window.

"I thought we were at Stoneheart?" She wondered out loud, taking in the towering heights of an upmarket hotel. She glanced confusedly out all the windows; Stoneheart was no where to be seen. "I was transported across town?"

"Eichorst wanted you to himself. No interference."

Cassie gritted her teeth in disgust. "Yeah, well he's going to regret every moment he spent with me."

Fitzwilliam fixed her with a look in the rear-view that bluntly said _how_, and she smiled grimly.

"I know, I'm done, but saying it makes me feel better, okay?"

He shook his head, smiling lightly at her macabre titter, and they enjoyed their brief moment of humour on that cold February day, it was almost like the world wasn't going to hell around them. Until, of course, a woman abruptly fell out of the sky and landed on their windscreen.

**R&R!**

**I know, it's been a while. I've seen your reviews, most I can't reply to, but thank you so much, I'm glad you like it. Hopefully you'll keep reading despite my poor update rate. I really do apologise. My plan is to update once a week now.**

**Please drop a little review if you have the time, I'd really appreciate it :)**


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